


It's just sex...

by TheNextPage



Series: Draxlembe / The PSG Prompt Page [2]
Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: M/M, Re-upload, from old chapter 7 to a new stand-alone fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 13:23:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16368425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNextPage/pseuds/TheNextPage
Summary: This is a repost.A prompt from (formerly) NormalPlaces: sex without feelings...[The premise of this if from the movie The Pass - with a twist! - and I think there's a direct quote from the book Call Me By Your Name]





	It's just sex...

**Author's Note:**

> After some extensive volunteered post-published beta'ing, various edits and a format change. 
> 
> Still the same story...hopefully with less errors than before.

Presko awoke slowly to a new day. He imagined it was midday – the thick curtains cut out all light and sounds. So he was aware only of being entirely rested and wholly ensconced in Jules arm.

They had had another one of those nights, another kind of night Presko was determined to wind down to an end. But last night they hadn’t had sex. He had been adamant on the point, and although Jules had been persistent and tempting: skillful hands wandering, dirty insinuations in every roll of his hips, Presko had managed – somehow – to not have sex with him.  
Instead, Pres had held Julian all night. Kissed him, at times passionately, more oftentimes gently and sweetly. He had spoken to him: told him about his childhood, the childhood and life he wanted for his son. They had whispered their dreams to each other, not daring to let the outside world hear them lest they be sullied and ruined by such publication. They had lain quietly, touching, exploring, giving comfort, stoking passion, mesmerised by the presence of the other. Pres knew there were real feelings there, he just had to wrestle them to the fore. He wasn’t buying Julian’s casual ‘It’s just sex babe, nothing more.’ There was no way someone who held him that closely, who said those sorts of things to him was only in it for the sex. 

Julian literally had options across the globe. Fans willing to walk miles just to touch him; teammates both local and international who would happily warm his bed; men and women alike. Julian was not without options. But he insisted on this. With him.

Pres tried to get up to check the time, but Jule’s arms dragged him back under the covers. “Not yet. Just stay…”

“I need the bathroom Jules.”

“Come right back. Don’t check your phone. Don’t let the world in… not yet.”

 

Pres decided to wash his face and brush his teeth whilst he was still up. He even brought a glass of water and a warm towelette to bed, knowing Jules would be starting to rise.

“How did you sleep Babe?”

“Like a dream. I feel good today. How are you?” Jules was mumbling beneath the sheets.

Pres could barely contain a grin as he passed the water and towelette over. Julian would do filthy, dirty things. His mouth… mercy his mouth. Julian would revel in his pleasure with such wanton abandon, with such shameless delight, but then, in the morning, he would hide under covers and mumble as if Pres had not been a party to the same delicious, filthy, dirty things.

“You don’t have morning breath. You’re fine. I just thought you might be thirsty. We kissed a lot last night.”

“We only kissed last night!” Jules took a long sip, pushing the blankets back to get some air.

“You liked it.” Pres rolled his eyes, yanking the blankets all the way off the bed, leaving Jules under a sheet only.

“There are other things I like. I can show them to you…” Jules took another long sip before placing the glass on the nightstand. He appraised his lover, trying to seduce him with his eyes.

Pres chuckled, getting back into bed. He broke eye contact for a moment because he knew he was not strong enough to resist Jules twice within 12hours.

“I liked talking to you last night. This morning.. whenever. I like it. I didn’t know all that stuff about…” 

Pres’ sentence was curtailed by Julian boldly putting his hand over his crotch. Unmoving, casual, Julian merely placed his hand there.

“Enough talking please. I want you in my mouth.”

Pres was tempted. Julian was so beautiful, and the sex was amazing. In quick succession, he could recollect their sexcapades – every single one of them - from the day this started, not two months prior.  
The game had been hard fought and rightly won. They had all decided to meet for drinks to celebrate: it had been a scrappy, physical encounter that required all their focus and attention, not to mention the iron-clad restraint on their frayed nerves with the other team playing hard and loose in the last twenty minutes. 7 yellow cards had been brandished and a red card eventually flourished.  
Drinks at one of the Brazilians had found Drax grabbing Presko when he arrived and dragging him upstairs to one of the guest bedrooms. Without question or preamble, Drax had pushed Kim up against the closed bedroom door and given him arguably, one of the best blowjobs in his entire adult life. Jules technique had been perfect: just the right amount of suction, precise twists and just enough flicks of his tongue. Kim had cum in his mouth, hands buried in his hair, keeping his head still. Drax swallowed every last drop and smiled, those brown eyes almost begging for more. And as Kim leaned against the doorway, waiting to regain feeling in his legs, Drax had jerked himself off pressed up intimately against Kim, tongue skimming Kim’s mouth.  
They were probably gone less than 30minutes. But then descended the stairs entirely different people, at least Kim was.

“Jules I…” Pres gingerly removed his hand. “I can’t anymore. Not like it is.”

Julian mock pouted, before trying again. When Pres quickly blocked his hand, gently returning Jules hand to his own lap, Julian realised he was serious.

“Pres… we’ve talked about this.”

“No Jules, we haven’t talked about it. You’ve said this is purely physical. Just sex. But I don’t believe you mean that. And even if you do, I want more than that. I don’t think you believe me when I say it.”

Julian rolled his eyes, already bored of this conversation.

“Presko, please don’t. Please don’t ruin a good thing we have…” 

“It could be better. It could be so much more.

Tell me why you’re scared… why you feel better pretending this is all you want.”

Julian shook his head, not ready to have this conversation. “I’m not doing this Presko. I had such a good night. I’m not going to ruin it with this conversation.” Julian flung the sheet back, prepared to leave.

Pres reached for him, gripping his wrist. “Stay. Talk to me. Talk to me like you did last night… tell me more about my Jules.”

“Pres you’re hurting me.” Julian whispered, only testing the strength of the grip with one shake.

“Then stop fighting me.”

Julian looked at his bound wrist, at his friend and occasional lover, and he sprang back into bed, breaking free from the hold and pinning Pres underneath him. There had been the risk he could have sprained his wrist, but that was a possibility he was willing to take.  
Grinding down against Pres, he looked to see the flash of desire in his eyes as he felt Julian’s erection graze his thigh. Morning wood, barely anything to get carried away about, but it was a timely reminder of what Julian could give him. He caught the spark racing across Pres’ eyes before they closed, the moment his head tilted back and his mouth opened in a near-sigh.

Julian traced a line from his neck to Pres ear, before whispering “I want to Presko… you can have all of it.” 

The roll of Pres hips against Julian was near-involuntary – his body was simply craving what Jules was offering. Julian ground his morning erection against Pres’ thigh once more.

“I love you Julian. I love you.” Pres wrestled his lust under control, before stating this simple truth to the man trying his damndest to seduce him. “I think you love me too. But you’re scared I think. Something happened… or you’re scared of something happening. So you…”

Julian pressed a desperate kiss to Pres mouth. Eager, hot and entirely designed to cease all conversation. Pres relaxed under the kiss, allowing Julian to meld into him. Then he wrapped an arm gently around Julian, and flipped him over.

Pres broke the kiss, sitting up over Drax hips. “I still love you. I still think you’re scared… petrified of something. But you don’t have to be scared with me.” Pres exhaled, placing a hand over Drax heart.

“Toujours,” 

Drax lay beneath him, unmoving for a moment. He flinched slightly at Pres hand on his chest like that. It was such an intimate, gentle gesture. It shook him to the core.  
Like the first time Pres initiated sex between them. He had been so mild, so sweet. After getting out the shower, Pres was walking around the room in suit pants. They had been on their way to a charity function Jules recalled. Jules was standing by his closet, trying to decide on a colour for his suit when he felt Pres come up close behind him. He pulled Drax entirely against him, his hands pulling the towel away as he took Jules in hand. He had sprinkled kisses across his neck and back then, slowly tugging at him all the while, his other hand holding his hips still. Jules had grabbed onto Pres thigh, his arm, the closet doors… anything to keep upright as Pres touched him unhurriedly, thinking only of his pleasure. He was attentive, listening to every sigh, whimper and murmur from Drax lips, adjusting his pressure or pace to elicit more of the same. By the time Drax was writhing, keening at the precipice of pleasure, Pres undid him entirely: he left his hips and pressed his hand over Jules heart, and started whispering in his ear ‘I love you, je t’áime, my love,’. Jules tumbled into exquisite pleasure, Pres’ sweetness pouring over and on him.

Drax shook his head, dissipating the memory and the full body shiver it occasioned. “Get off me mon gars. I’m leaving.” 

Pres was crestfallen, but had to accept that this was his choice. He gingerly moved aside, allowing Jules room to sit up and rise from the bed. He stalked to the bathroom, shoulders hunched and his entire frame closed off and cold. 

Pres considered opening the curtains, checking his phone… letting the world back in. But he decided against it. If Julian was about to leave him, if he was jeopardizing his friendship and this nascent love story, he didn’t want a moment’s break from it. If this was going to be the end of him and his Jules, he wanted to steep in this moment so thoroughly, he could leave it behind once he left this room.

Pres had just checked the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the door, when he heard Jules leave the bathroom. He returned to the bed, sitting with his legs crossed as Jules sullenly collected his clothes and belongings, truly intending to leave.  
He slipped his watch into his pocket without looking at it. His phone followed, still off.

“I think… I think it will be good if we don’t… just for a few days. I’ll see you at training on Thursday.” Jules voice wavered throughout, his eyes on the floor.

“Why do you need time if it was only sex?” Pres queried quietly.

Jules looked up at him then. “What do you want from me?” His lip quivered. “Why isn’t this enough?”

“I want everything Jules, all of you. And I won’t apologise for it.” Pres got up from the bed, came to stand before this man he loved with his entire being. “And how can it be enough when I know you have so much to give?” Pres kissed his cheek, a resigned benediction. “If you don’t want to give it to me… and I won’t accept anything less, then you should be with anyone who will settle. I love you too much…”

Julian returned the peck with a hungry kiss, lips clashing, teeth nipping at skin, tongues duelling feverishly. The intensity reminded Pres of Jules fevered lovemaking: vigorous thrusting, fervent grasping, throaty moans and demands, pleas and entreaties, the intuitive synchronicity of how they moved, like they were born to be together in that way.

But Pres wanted more. He wanted all of Jules: the dizzying passion and the temperate depths of the man. He pressed a hand gingerly against the firm warmth of his chest, pushing his lover away.

“Tout de toi Jules.” 

 

Pres was alone in the shower, surprised by the lack of tears. Julian had walked out and away a while ago, it was hard to keep track of the time. He had watched him walk to the door, praying with every step he would turn back and say something, anything. He hoped against hope that Julian would turn around with some cocky smile on his face, or maybe with tears in his eyes. All he wanted was for Jules to turn around.  
But he didn’t. He left and hadn’t returned… didn’t return. Pres chastised his hopeful heart. Better to start to accept that he had made a decision and a request, and Julian had honoured it.

He dried off from the shower, spraying Jules left-behind cologne on his skin and pulled on fresh pants. He considered watching some TV, or finally opening the curtains. He even considered opening the door being knocked on. But the sign was pretty clear, so instead he crawled back into bed, hugged Jules pillow tightly to his face, and screamed as loud as he could. The muffled sound didn’t register beyond the bed, but Pres was pleasantly relieved by the action. So he did it again and again, until he started to develop a headache. He rolled away and lay back on his pillow, staring up blankly at the ceiling.

He heard the knocking on the door again, and flung the pillow in the general direction of the sound.

An electronic click followed, then the sound of the door opening. Tentative footsteps came down the hallway. Pres rolled his eyes. ‘If fking hotel management came into his room because of the screaming, he would give them a reason to be concerned.’

 

“I’m scared I’ll lose you.”

Pres sprang up, staring at Jules. He looked like he had been crying. He couldn’t have been gone for that long. But he looked like he was in a complete state. Dazed and sad and alone.

“I thought keeping it purely physical would be easier. I thought we have such a perfect system: away from the football, I enjoyed your body as you enjoyed mine. At training, on the field, you’re my best friend. I wanted all those things, but couldn’t risk one for the other. I thought it would be easier to keep them separate. But you didn’t let me, did you?”

Pres shook his head. From the first day he had touched Jules, he was only ever going to pour his love into every caress and moment he was given access to his body. “I love you too much.”

“Je t’áime aussi. Toujours!” 

“Why did you leave?” Pres asked.

Jules was at a loss for a moment. This was all so difficult for him, so much honesty and openness expected of him. “I thought… I thought I could walk away from you. And that it would be ok because we would still be friends, even if I could never wake up beside you again. But then I started crying before I even got downstairs. And I turned right back around. And I knocked. But you wouldn’t open the door. So I went back downstairs and had to convince them to give me a key.

You are inside me now. Part of me in way I never expected…” Jules took a step forward. “Do you… will you still…” 

Pres rushed towards him, hugging him close, nodding his assent against his warm skin. “I’m glad you’re back. Don’t leave again.”

Jules nodded. “Presko, kiss me.”


End file.
